[DISCONTINUED UFN] BENEATH SANDS OF BLOOD ⟶ THE MUMMY 1999/2017

-𝐢𝐢𝐢 ⟶ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡

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"I am no one, only sent to keep you from making a grave mistake.
The Gods have condemned you, priestess. Be careful what you do."

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THEBES, 1300 B.C.E.
TEN YEARS BEFORE
THE DEATH OF IMHOTEP

"IMHOTEP?"

The voice of the High Priestess cut through muted chattering of golden priests that served her brother. The Keeper of the Dead raised his head from a set of texts, ancient to even their times. A warm smile spread over his lips at the welcome sight of family. "Ahmanet! How was your journey, dear sister?"

The woman's attending priestesses were quietly beginning to move her things into the rooms assigned for her stay. She paid no mind to the small matters of logistics for her travels. As High Priestess of Isis, she had far more worrying concerns to deal with.

Ahmanet closed the gap between her sibling and herself, slipping her arms around him to give him a firm hug. One that he returned happily. After he had taken up residence in the Royal Palace at the request of Pharaoh Seti three years ago, they had only seen each other briefly. Barely any time to smile in passing, none at all for any serious conversations. He was still young, one of the youngest High Priests of Osiris to bear the title as well as Pharaoh's Keeper of the Dead. Ahmanet was only grateful he had not received the Master of the Secrets of the Toilet House.* That was a mockery of a title to her.

"Tiring, but it was alright," she answered truthfully once she had stepped back from his embrace. The Priestess' eyes drifted over the room. Though lazy, the gaze was sharp. She studied her brothers' Priests for a further moment, watching as three of them continued to pore over an unrolled papyrus scroll carefully laid down on a stone table. That brought back to the fore of her mind the reason for her visit. "Brother, while I am pleased to see you again, I did not travel across multiple cities simply for a pleasure visit. You said you discovered something I must see?"

At her words, the man's expression shifted from pleased to something more concealed. "Not here," came his low voice. His Priests could be trusted, they were loyal only to him - but her Priestesses? Ahmanet caught his glance to the women now conversing with his men. "Can your Priestesses be trusted?"

She wasn't a fool. She had known when he called her from her temple that she needed to bring only those she could completely trust. "I only brought the most trustworthy. Imhotep, what is this about?"

"Not here." His repeated warning was a low hiss. "It's too open. Tonight. I'll send one of my Priests to come bring you to the libraries."

The thought to object to being summoned was drowned by the anticipation that flickered to life in her. What could be so important that he could not discuss it alone with her? Their servants, like they, answered only to the Gods and not to Pharaoh. Part of the privileges both she and Imhotep enjoyed - Pharaoh could not give them direct orders, or challenge their authority. She spoke for Isis, and if she refused a royal order because her Goddess refused it - what could Pharaoh do about it?

She let out a breath, giving a sharp nod. "Tonight."

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